Resolved:

It feels like I'm submitting a proposal to the United Nations when I think about resolutions. I am not normally into the entire idea because honestly, I never follow through with them and I don't know anybody that does. Besides, it seems very strange to think that I'm going to have a start and end to doing something different in my life. This year, I will be a better person, but the year after that? I am going to regress, baby. Plus, resolutions always tend to be so vague, which I was actually reading on CNN (yes, I'm a dweeb) about how you are supposed to set specific goals so as to avoid breaking New Year Resolutions. So instead of saying that you'll be a better person you're supposed to... I don't know... walk old ladies across the street at least twice a month? Or something, I don't know and that's why I haven't set any sort of resolutions for the past several years.*

However, this year is going to be different.

Actually, it's probably not, but it's kind of going to be different because I'm going to try something? And they're not going to be resolutions, they are going to be non-resolutions. Ready?
 Here we go.

For 2011, I hereby non-resolve to engage in the following practices... activities? Projects. Sure. Projects.

One of them I got halfway through in 2009, which was to take a photo a day for 365 days. I actually liked that one and ended up taking some very interesting pictures of things inside my apartment since I'd forget to take my camera and then put it off until the last minute and just half-ass it with a pic of something. That's probably what I'm going to end up doing this year, too. At least half of the time. Be prepared. It will be exciting.

The second one? I'm not sure of the exact details about. Once I have that sorted, though, I will inform the world through an interpretive song and dance.

Or just through another update...


*Unless you count my default resolution that I stole from my friend Joe, which is to quit smoking. Since I don't smoke, I'm already ahead of the game! Yes, this is probably cheating.

It ain't love until it's over.

Okay, Christmas is over, I'm back at my apartment, listening to the baby crying next door and the dog running around upstairs while a guy yells "Knock it off" at it.

Life is good?

I'm also savoring the last quarter of my Christmas holiday. Today I am going to be productive as hell, that's my intention at least, and I've already started... kind of? I'm dying my hair, if that counts as being productive. I mean, it should count, since it's something that I've intended to do and haven't done it. In the grand scheme of things it doesn't mean much... if you count having great hair as something that doesn't mean much, which I don't personally, but I realize that it's a big world out there and probably lots of people think differently than I do.

Most people.

I'm not really sure what else a productive day entails. I'll clean my apartment, I guess, and finish cleaning my car. I started cleaning my car yesterday but ran out of inclination. That sounds bad. I should make up a good excuse for why I stopped cleaning my car.

Okay, I was cleaning my car yesterday when all of a sudden I got a text message from a mysterious number that I'd never seen before. The text message said, "I'm watching you and I like your sweater." I looked around but couldn't see anyone so I decided that it was too creepy and went back inside.

How's that? It sounds much better. We'll go with that one.

I think it must sound really mundane and boring, my life, at this point. And I'll tell you what. It kind of is. But the funny thing is that I like it? It's calm and relaxing and I'm going to appreciate it while I can. And meditate. Or something.

This song never gets old.

Though, being the purist that I am, I still sing "wingtip shoes" rather than "Converse shoes".
It just sounds better that way.

Ennui, pt 2.

Well, I vacuumed.

Ennui.

I guess I can vacuum.

Jubilation!

I am... I'm not sure what word to use for it. Ridiculously excited? Thrilled beyond measure? Happy as a clam in a bed of mud? Are clams happy in mud? I am not sure. Sand? It doesn't really matter.

I got my scores back for my teaching certification course, and I am a-okay with the world! This semester I'd had to write paper on paper for that course, all in the name of being gainfully employed in the future and I'll admit.. I procrastinated.

A lot.

But! Wonder of wonders, I got (um.. the majority of) the work turned in and it was enough! I passed! Plus, next semester I don't have to worry about writing papers or anything of the sort, I just get to have my observer-person-dude come in and watch me a few times. Do you know what this means? The enormity of this situation? The hard part is over! I am practically free! Until I choose to try to get my master's, which, let's face it... might happen. Maybe.

Anyway, in celebration, I am enclosing a picture of my (now my mom's--she's a thief) pet cat, when he was a cute little baby kitten that played and played for hours until I had to force him to leave the room because, gosh, I was trying to sleep and a girl needs her sleep, you know?

Cheers,

Me.

When you're nothing; you're still something.

Another update? I think I'm managing one per day this week. Madness!

To be fair (and I do try my best to be fair... to myself), I have had more free time this week than I've had since starting to work. My homework for my certification class has been submitted, play practice is on hiatus for the month and since it's the end of the semester, all my papers have been graded and the grades have been submitted. Tomorrow and Friday are half days, you guys! I am getting my hair cut tomorrow, after 8 months of not cutting it! I'm not too excited, though, considering I spent the past three years getting my hair cut by the ninja guy in the shop down from good old Munjeong Shiyoung. I miss my hair ninja. So we'll see how tomorrow goes. If it goes badly, I just won't ever get my hair cut again. Or at least, not until I go back to Seoul for a visit.

So, yes. Free time. Lots of it. Today in class I listened to my podcasts. The Heligoats was on NPR and it was awesome. But don't take my word for it. Listen for yourself. Otepka's stories are quirky and charming. It makes me miss my guitar, but I don't know why because I can only play my 2.75 songs, but maybe.. if I had it now... I would be able to play 3.75 songs. Or something.

Anyway, I am decidedly lacking in Christmas spirit. Haven't done a bit of shopping. My apartment looks the same. I wore a short-sleeved shirt to work today and didn't have to wear my coat as I went home? Texas is not conducive to Christmas, you guys.
But! I do have some decorations in my classroom. Hardly anything, really. But more than nothing?

And I received some gifts from my students. Nothing like my Teacher's Day loot from my kindergarten students, but these are high schoolers, and we are in the United States, so I was excited about my Starbucks gift card. I mean, super excited. Plus, hot chocolate in a snowman mug! And the reindeer bag has candy inside it. It made me happy.
I think I just like gifts. Small stuff, big stuff, doesn't really matter. I like everything. I like giving gifts, too, which makes it really weird that I haven't done any Christmas shopping yet? Except maybe not, because I am saving up for next semester's tuition, plus I do want to go overseas during summer vacation, and geez, that's going to cost a lot, too. I wonder if my family would be mad if I made them sculptures out of play-dough for Christmas?

So I decorated my whiteboard with the Christmas cards that I was receiving. I honestly don't ever know what to do with Christmas cards, so taping them to my whiteboard seemed like a good plan. Then I decorated my calendar. Can you see how well I was managing my time, here? I also think I did three crossword puzzles today. I'm turning into a crossword puzzle savant, folks, it's amazing. I should get a badge or something.
At the very least, a handshake and a pat on the back?

I don't know where it's likely to go better.

I'd like to get away from earth awhile
and then come back to it and begin over.
May no fate willfully misunderstand me
and half grant what I wish and snatch me away
not to return. Earth's the right place for love:
I don't know where it's likely to go better.
I'd like to go by climbing a birch tree,
and climb black branches up a snow-white trunk
toward heaven, till the tree could bear no more,
but dipped its top and set me down again.
That would be good both going and coming back.
One could do worse than be a swinger of birches.

from Birches
Robert Frost

Chaaaaaat.

me:  Oh you are cooking dinner.

 Sent at 8:50 PM on Monday

 me:  I will talk until you get back

My tea is steeping anyway.

And then, either two things will happen. Or maybe both. 1 is that you will keep hearing beeping noises from the chat notifications while you are trying to cook and curiosity will drive you mad

And/or 2 is that you will come back and be really confused and have to scroll up to see what the heck was going on.

Both of these are equally satisfying to me. So I will continue.

Um. I am sad because I don't have milk, because I can't actually use up all the milk before the expiration date.

And Wal-Mart doesn't sell the really small quarts (are they quarts? no pints. No.. amounts) of milk like they did in Korea. So I have to buy the size that isn't the gallon but is smaller than the gallon (?) and I just don't consume that much milk.

It's a sad situation. Because a little milk in my English Breakfast Tea would be ideal.

And... hm. It's cold in my apartment.

I'm thinking about going back to Korea, but just for a year.

And that's only if my school chooses not to renew my contract. I'm not sure if that's going to happen.

My job got a lot easier since they stopped allowing the [edited because I'm paranoid!] into my class. So I feel like I'm doing better. But I have no idea how the next five months are going to go.

So, if they don't renew me, or if the worst scenario happens and I don't get my certification this year because I sucked at doing my homework... maybe I'll move back to Seoul to teach.

That's kind of a scary prospect, but honestly, I have no idea what I want to do for the next 50 or so years until I finally keel over. So I guess that's as good as anything? And if I teach lots of privates then I can save lots of money and travel a lot?

Then my retirement would suck, though.

But who the hell knows? I mean, I could die by the time I'm 45. I should have fun now.

Maybe that's being irresponsible.

And then my friend came back so I had to end my little monologue there. I like talking to people and having them not respond.

Wait, maybe I put that the wrong way. I like the idea of getting my thoughts out completely. I do enjoy having conversations with people, and I think I'm a pretty good listener, but I also like the kind of, "Are you there, God?" Margaret type letters that I'm totally not emulating here, because I'm just kind of rambling and not telling a story at all, but do you see where I am getting at?

No?

I am not posting the next segment of conversation in which I ramble on forever because it places me in a bad light.

Well, a worse light than usual. 

But I am going to say that I was late for work today because my phone battery died in the middle of the night and I KNEW there was a REASON why I hated using my phone for an alarm clock rather than my actual alarm clock, and there it is. I woke up at 7:54 and got to work at 8:23. I was supposed to be at work at 7:40, and my first class starts at 8:00, so I missed half of it. But you people should be impressed. My drive to work is usually about 18 minutes long. That means.. I got ready for work... in less than 10 minutes. And I mean, READY FOR WORK. I looked put together today, people, not at all like I had just rolled out of bed. It was impressive, if I do say so myself.

Drama!

I bet you thought I was going to talk about gossiping and causing trouble and making life difficult, like some people are fond of doing.

Well, I'm not. My life is fairly drama-free at the moment. Well, at least by that definition of the word. If you want to use drama as a term for theater production, then my life is fairly full of it, since I teach it twice a day five days a week. Also, my life is fairly full of it if you take use the term as one for short Korean television series.

Which I am.

So last week I finished watching 장난스런 키스. Sixteen episodes. I watched one a day for about.. um.. 16 days*. It was cute and surprisingly lacking in all the big emotional moments that most dramas have. No one died. The female antagonist wasn't evil, she didn't seem even that unsympathetic. Everyone got a happy ending. The main male character got a horrible perm halfway through and that made me sad. Anyway, I liked it.

I don't really understand the perm on boys. On girls, yeah. I tried it. It personally did not work for me, but I can see the appeal. For boys? No.

Now I have to find another one to watch. I think Daniel Henney was in one that ended recently, so it's probably online. Except I think it's a spy/thriller/action drama, and I find those way less fun. Because I'm not a boy. But then again... it's Daniel Henney. You can see my dilemma here. Plus, the chances of him getting a perm anywhere at anytime seem slim indeed. Reassuringly so.

The semester ends this week. My first semester of school-teacher-ing. I don't feel very school teacher-y, even considering that I went to the coffee shop this afternoon and spent three hours (!) grading.
This week will consist of three normal days (one of which is my Library day, and you are mistaken if you think I'm not going to take my students to the Library. Very mistaken. Ridiculously so.) and then two exam days where we have early releases. It's going to be tremendous.

Then? Then two weeks of unadulterated bliss. Christmas vacation. I could get used to this whole teacher thing, especially when it means I get two weeks of holiday when I used to get three days overseas. I will need to consider what I plan on doing with my time, since going to visit my parents can only take so long.

I will make a list.

Not now, though. I'm tired. 


*I am good at math.

Liveblogging: Gingerbread 2010

6:49 pm: I have popped the first batch of twelve semi-circular-ish cookies into the preheated oven. The oven is super preheated because I ran into some.. ah.. issues in the cookie dough preparation stage. Namely, the fact that I don't have any flour to prevent the cookie dough from sticking to.. um.. everything.

Also, I broke the rolling pin. Let's see how these monstrosities come out in... 6 more minutes.



6:55: I somehow managed to cut my thumb? What the heck? Don't worry, it's not bleeding. Repeat: it is not bleeding. The cookies are safe.

7:02: Second batch is a go. I am like a well-oiled machine, zooming my way through makeshift cookie cutters and wooden spoons.

7:10: Third batch is in, second is out. Upstairs neighbors were fighting but seem to have stopped. the delicious smell of Christmas wafting up through the floorboards must have quieted them.



7:13: Nope, I was wrong, they're still fighting. And stomping!

7:21: Fourth batch is in, the cookies haphazardly slung across the baking tin where once they were lined up with military-like precision.

7:29(ish?): I lost track of when I put the fifth group in, but they're there, toasting. Sacrificially.

7:36: Sixth and second to last group is in! I see the light at the end of the tunnel, and it looks like cinnamon and spice and everything that's adequate for Christmas cheer.

7:39: Burnt my thumb. Baking is dangerous, people.

7:45: Very last cookie is in. Made it out of the very last remnants of dough. It's probably going to taste the best. That's kind of life.

7:47: Decorating time. All right.

8:03: I am tired of decorating. Also, of cookies.



8:19: I never thought I would see the day. Or the hour, maybe? But I have! I am finished! Done! I left some cookies undecorated for those health nuts. Other than that, here they are.

They're like an army.

Explanations

Do I really need one? I just really like the Cure somedays, and I can't really tell what Robert Smith is saying mostdays so having the lyrics helps me out there. It might help you out there, too. Don't judge.

My weekend went way too quickly, and it was busy, and I forgot how much I sometimes dislike having busy weekends. I guess I hadn't experienced enough of them lately to remember, but once I did, it was like an immediate visceral reaction, and suddenly all I could think was, "Man, I just want to stay home." Not that I wasn't having fun, because I was, I don't know what comes over me sometimes. I probably just like to complain. Or maybe since it's getting cold, I'm entering hibernation mode, even though it's not half as cold as it was in Korea?



It's getting cold, though, without a doubt. And there are Christmas lights, and Christmas trees, and the other day I bought gingerbread cookie mix, though I'm not really sure why because I lack all kitchen utensils necessary for creating gingerbread cookies. Except, maybe a bowl. I guess it's for the future, when I someday own more kitchen utensils, and feel like eating gingerbread men.

Gingerbread men are pretty awesome, though.

The way the blue could pull me in.

Oh Elise it doesn't matter what you say
I just can't stay here every yesterday
Like keep on acting out the same
The way we act out
Every way to smile
Forget
And make-believe we never needed
Any more than this
Any more than this

Oh Elise it doesn't matter what you do
I know I'll never really get inside of you
To make your eyes catch fire
The way they should
The way the blue could pull me in
If they only would
If they only would
At least I'd lose this sense of sensing something else
That hides away
From me and you
There're worlds to part
With aching looks and breaking hearts
And all the prayers your hands can make
Oh I just take as much as you can throw
And then throw it all away
Oh I throw it all away
Like throwing faces at the sky
Like throwing arms round
Yesterday
I stood and stared
Wide-eyed in front of you
And the face I saw looked back
The way I wanted to
But I just can't hold my tears away
The way you do

Elise believe I never wanted this
I thought this time I'd keep all of my promises
I thought you were the girl I always dreamed about
But I let the dream go
And the promises broke
And the make-believe ran out...

So Elise
It doesn't matter what you say
I just can't stay here every yesterday
Like keep on acting out the same
The way we act out
Every way to smile
Forget
And make-believe we never needed
Any more than this
Any more than this

And every time I try to pick it up
Like falling sand
As fast as I pick it up
It runs away through my clutching hands
But there's nothing else I can really do
There's nothing else I can really do
There's nothing else
I can really do
At all...

That was my emo blog update for the week. I'm limited to one per seven days. 

Also, this is very accurate for me. I'm debating the merits of going

into detail. On the one hand, it will be entertaining as hell. On the other,

well... maybe it's better left undocumented, so I have some scant hope of 

forgetting some of the details in the future. Not that they're all bad, at all.

Just maybe too much for my poor head to process.

Decisions

I don't know if I should be telling anyone this. I'm pretty sure other people will not appreciate this as the fine form of decision making that it is because it is. Be patient. You will see.

I have used this technique to make two highly important decisions today. Yes, two in the same day, it is a miracle of science.

Well maybe not science.

So this afternoon, I had a big decision to make. And that decision was... what to have for dinner. On the one hand, I could stick to the tried and true, something that was already suited to my taste. On the other hand, I could go for something new and different and oh wow, what a difficult decision. I was torn. So...

I flipped a coin. The coin told me to be adventurous. So I was. It was an adequate decision.

Then! Tonight, I was again faced with a dilemma. I had just finished running (I am thinking about doing a 5k in a few months. Scary!) and I remembered that I had made a somewhat promise to go out this evening. But! It is cold! But then again! I had made a promise! So what did I do?

You got it. I flipped a coin. The coin said to stay in. Which I am doing, but with amendments, because I will leave later, after my hair dries. Well, kind of dries.

See, this is the greatness that is coin-flipping-decision-making. It kind of takes the pressure off of you, but if you decide to go against the coin, you can! What's going to happen? The coin isn't going to get mad. Plus, it maybe helps put things into perspective. See, if I had truly hated the decision that the coin handed me, I would have thought twice about it, and in the act of thinking twice about it, I would have realized that perhaps, deep down, I really wanted to do something else. Also, if I go along with what the coin directs and I hate it---I get to blame the coin! It's an instant scapegoat!

I was introduced to this concept by a friend in Seoul, and have been a faithful disciple ever since. Of course, it's not always a perfect solution. Sometimes, if you flip the coin, it might roll under something and then you would lose it, and then you would have to find another coin to flip and what if you found the original coin so that the two flips canceled each other out? Or what if you didn't have a coin? I feel like the chances of that are pretty slim, but I suppose it's possible. I guess what I'm trying to say is... restrictions do apply. Coin-flipping cannot answer anything.

I know for a fact that it's horrible at multiple choice questions.

And essays.


Also, it's probably not a good way to answer super important questions. Like, "Will you marry me?" I mean, even if the coin told you to say yes, it might be hard to explain to the proposer why you had to resort to it in the first place. Use the power of the coin wisely.

Piensa En Mi

I am so excited about this song--I heard it in the car while I was driving the other day and that shouldn't be surprising, since I'm the one that added it to the CD as I was burning it, but then I actually tried to listen to it and... wow. It's good. Enjoy.

6 am.

Yes, it is 6 am. Not 6 am because I woke up so early (on a Saturday! Pshaw) but 6 am because I haven't been to sleep yet.

It sounds much cooler than it really is.

Right now, I am at the place where I feel awake enough to maybe make it through most of the day. I realize that that's preposterous, but in my head it completely makes sense right now. I got home and took a shower and brushed my teeth and am debating the merits of trying to stay up.

Merits of Trying to Stay Up:
I won't ruin my sleep schedule.
I get to claim that I didn't go to sleep last night, making me look wacky and interesting?
I get to look wacky and interesting?
My hair gets time to dry because I do not own a blowdryer.

Merits of Going to Sleep:
Sleep.
Even if I ruin my sleep schedule, it's been ruined before and will get over it, probably by forcing it into a loveless union with exhaustion.
sleep.
I'm going to be useless for the rest of the day if I don't even attempt to sleep.
I'd rather not be useless for the rest of the day?
I appear responsible and adultlike.
Sleep.

I think the "Going to Sleep" side wins.

=]

If I don't get around to saying it later,

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

Amazingness

So today in a fit of madness and/or inspiration and/or pique, I wrote a short story and it is freaking, I kid you not, genius. I was at the coffee shop, writing, like the little pretentious indie emo kid that I am, and was texting my friend to discuss some issues that we are both going through (yes, I am being particularly vague, not to try to catch anyone's interest, but rather because I'm not going to go into it here) and I just started writing. It was amazing. When I finished, I texted him, "Holy crap, ______, I am like a literary genius and I didn't even have to take any drugs."

Then I packed up my stuff and drove home and typed it all up and then I read it out loud to myself and was so impressed that I had to come on here to inform the world (also known as no one) of the miracle that I had created. I wonder if this is how Shakespeare* felt. Or man, not even Shakespeare, I wonder if this is how my creative writing professor at university felt because if that's the case, I understand, now. I totally understand.

Of course, it's probably trite and rubbish but it's kind of not because I say so. Or it kind of is because I say so?

Upon further reflection, this requires more thought.

*I am not comparing myself to Shakespeare, at all, I just used his name because everyone knows Shakespeare, and it's almost cliché but I don't care because I am a freaking artist and can bend the rules on a whim.

>=[

So I took a nap before going into play practice this evening and perfecting my British accent (it's really just that good, ya'll) and that was a mistake. Mistake. Because now I am not sleepy and just sitting here, with my laptop on my lap and my pandora station playing and my toes are cold because I'm being dumb and not actually turning on the heat in my apartment except for ten minutes in the morning because it's COLD, but not that cold.

Well, it's pretty cold. For me.

My classes this week have gone pretty well. I think the kids are heartened by the prospect of vacation, or they can see that I'm just as likely to go nuts on them and give them all extra homework and noodle whipping as not. I thought teaching Kindergarten was a trial to my patience, having all those 6 year olds trying to desperately to get my attention, and getting stabbed with a pencil, or having to listen to a kid tell a five minute story about how he has a puppy that runs in circles.

Actually, that was pretty cute.

But wow, I am learning to take advantage of the five minute passing period between classes as time for me to close my eyes and meditate briefly on life and my place in it and how everything will work out in the end and how I really should have worn shorter heels, but it's too late now and I am going to just have to deal with it and at least they make me taller. The days have started magically growing longer and longer until it's 8th period, and all I can do is prop my aching feet on my desk and listen to podcasts*. I realize that it's just me being tired, and going for so long without some time off, but it's disheartening all the same, to feel so negative about everything the past few weeks.

Of course, I should be used to it, being a negative person, and hating everything, and kicking puppies**, like I like to do. But I'm not. It's sad.

And horrible.

And.. um.. bad.

And other stuff.





*I learned about Jewish pirates today, it was interesting.

**Not really, puppies are adorable and I like them a lot, I just dislike (almost) everything else.

All I could do was to get drunk again

the suicide kid
I went to the worst of bars hoping to get killed. but all I could do was to get drunk again. worse, the bar patrons even ended up liking me. there I was trying to get pushed over the dark edge and I ended up with free drinks while somewhere else some poor son-of-a-bitch was in a hospital bed, tubes sticking out all over him as he fought like hell to live. nobody would help me die as the drinks kept coming, as the next day waited for me with its steel clamps, its stinking anonymity, its incogitant attitude. death doesn't always come running when you call it, not even if you call it from a shining castle or from an ocean liner or from the best bar on earth (or the worst). such impertinence only makes the gods hesitate and delay. ask me: I'm 72.     Charles Bukowski* To say that I'm ridiculously into this guy at the moment would be an  understatement. And yes, by this guy, I mean a deceased German-American poet.

Counting the days.

So this is is my current radio obsession.
Well, it is as much as pandora.com can be a radio obsession. But it's what I've been listening to lately.  I wish I could listen in my car, since I really get tired of the same music after awhile, and can't stand the radio unless it's NPR, which is broadcasting from Stephenville, and I'm usually driving in a direction that's away from Stephenville, so the station gets fuzzy. It's very sad. Someday I daydream about getting a new car stereo, but it's honestly pretty low on my list of priorities, so I guess I'm stuck with the same old stuff in the car, and pandora at home.

I guess it's not a terrible arrangement.

So I really want a day off. It's almost ridiculous. But I have to hold out because Thanksgiving holiday starts on the 24th and it's going to be great(!!) having three days off from work. Well, five if you count the weekend, and I may as well count the weekend. I feel like the next week is going to be interminable. But(!) three weeks after Thanksgiving, I'll get my Christmas holiday, and that will be excellent. I'm planning on making gingerbread cookies.. because I really like gingerbread men. With little red-hot buttons. And a hat.
I used to really like Christmas. I guess I still do, but it's a significantly scaled back enjoyment. I guess it's sad? But maybe it's more sad to be almost thirty and ridiculously excited about Christmas? Maybe it's the most saddest (yes, I am an English teacher) to be almost thirty.

Yeah. It totally is.

Eulogy To A Hell Of A Dame

some dogs who sleep At night must dream of bones and I remember your bones in flesh and best in that dark green dress and those high-heeled bright black shoes, you always cursed when you drank, your hair coming down you wanted to explode out of what was holding you: rotten memories of a rotten past, and you finally got out by dying, leaving me with the rotten present; you've been dead 28 years yet I remember you better than any of the rest; you were the only one who understood the futility of the arrangement of life; all the others were only displeased with trivial segments, carped nonsensically about nonsense; Jane, you were killed by knowing too much. here's a drink to your bones that this dog still dreams about.  Charles Bukowski

Knowledge is power.

Went to the zoo last weekend. Saw a lemur? Yes, it is definitely a lemur. I know because I looked it up.

That was all I had intended to say, but then I changed my mind because it's still a good half hour before I'm going to go to sleep (yes, I plan on going to sleep at 9:30, provided my hair is dry by then) so I may as well kill some time.

I really like to read. I mean. Really. Like. To. Read. But I've been paring down my personal library, which has been pretty easy, considering the town I'm currently living has nothing resembling a book store unless you count the section labeled "Books" at Target. The nearest bookstore isn't that far away, but... I'm using it as encouragement to not buy anything that won't potentially fit into a handful of boxes in 6 months. Also, I'm planning on jumping on the e-reader bandwagon at some point in the not too distant future, so. Anyway.

In lieu of reading books... well, in addition to reading the increasingly well-worn copies of the books I own and have decided to bring up here with me, I've started the search for interesting reading material on the internet. There are some webcomics that I always read, a few blogs, my email over and over (I really like checking my email, it's like a trip to the mailbox minus the walking and the disappointment when nothing's there), but I wanted more! And I've found more! Well. A little!

One of the blogs I have recently begun to read has been TheBloggess.com, and I was struck by an entry in which Jenny wrote about being furiously happy in response to some way un-fun and bad things that had been happening. I like this concept a lot. It's like a way of spiting life, but only when life is being really crappy and mean and points and laughs at you about it. So I tried it today. Not because my day was particularly bad, but it was particularly long, and fairly un-fun and at one point one of my students actually walked past me, paused and asked, "Are you alright?"
Which I was. It's just striking that a 16 year old boy (probably not a section of humanity known for being particularly perceptive) picked up that it seemed like I wasn't. (Nothing against 16 year old boys. Or 16 year olds in general.)

So I guess we can call these baby steps. I am going to try to force myself to be happy now, when days are not so bad, or okay, or even pretty normal. So that when that fateful day comes, and everything is TERRIBLE, I will be prepared to toss my hair scornfully at life and make rude gestures at it behind its back. I am practicing.

It was going pretty well 'til I decided to watch last night's episode of Glee, and then I cried. Ohhhh, I cried. To be fair, it doesn't take a lot to make me cry, I can tear up at just about anything except for Titanic and anything involving Nicholas Sparks. But I'm almost consistently a sucker about watching sadness. It makes me feel sad, and then my life is sucked into a whirling vortex of sadness and I forget entirely about being happy, furiously or not. Not for long, fortunately, but for long enough to make me write this kind of blog entry about it.

I know this is all terrible fascinating, and may come up on Jeopardy someday, so I'm glad I got to impart this information to anyone who happens to read this at some undetermined point in the future.

This just in.

Whyyyyyy am I so weird and awkward? I don't really understand, and it's kind of awesome but then kind of not fun to have my sense of humor, and laugh at inappropriate times, and think that the fact that this morning, I tripped over my own pajama pants and found it hilarious enough to have to mention over my facebook status. I've done other mentionable things. Things that deserve some sort of recognition via a social networking sight. But do I mention any of those, thus cementing the illusion that I am an interesting person into a sort of fact? No! Instead, I want to tell people of another occasion in which I fell down.


It happens a lot.


In other news, I am in dire need of a vacation.

Paranoia?

As I was saying in an email earlier....

I was super productive today. Just not in ways that really matter.

Work's been going well, for the most part. The end of the second grading period is drawing to a close, so I've been frantically trying to.. well.. grade things. I'm at the point now where I just draw a check and a happy face. Yes, I teach 11th graders. Big whoop, wanna fight about it?

Tomorrow I get to not teach and go to Graham for a theater program meeting. That will be fun, if only for the not teaching part. And then Thanksgiving is in less than three weeks, so I think I can tough it out and make it 'til then without, you know, stabbing myself in the eye.

Funny story, today I stabbed myself in the eye. With my eyeliner. I wasn't wearing my contacts, which shouldn't really make much of a difference, but somehow it did? So I ended up dragging the eyeliner brush across my eyeball. It took a few seconds for the pain to hit me, so I had enough time to gently lower the brush to the cabinet and then I staggered away from the mirror, propped myself up against the doorjamb and just breathed. It was absolute agony and I had inflicted it on myself. On my eyeball.

Then my treadmill fell on me. Again.

I might be cursed.

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why

What Lips My Lips Have Kissed, And Where, And Why (Sonnet XLIII)

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply;
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands a lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet know its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more. 

Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunrise, sunset.

I have seen more sunrises in the past two months than I have in my entire life. It's impressive, I guess, but for the fact that... potentially... I will be seeing sunrises like this every weekday morning 9 months out of a year. Thinking about life in terms of waking up at 6 am 5 days a week... it's depressing. And daunting. Without a doubt.

I miss milestones. I think I've passed most of them in my life, with a few notable exceptions. But I remember! The days of thinking... oh, life is going to be so different. I can't wait til I ____________. Get to college. Turn 21. Move out and live on my own. Life is really really exciting for the first 25 years, and then what do you have to look forward to? Gray hair? First wrinkles? Turning 50? Dying?

Oh wow, I am super depressed now. I will cheer myself up by looking at pictures of Daniel Henney.


There. All better.

To dance and to drown

 The video (above, it's right ^ there, can you see it?) is one of the new bands I'm obsessing over. I actually bought the CD! It was amazing, I haven't bought any new music in years, it feels like. But they're so happy, even when they're not, and the lead singer's voice resonates with me and.. come on, they have an accordion and a trumpet player. How can that not be awesome?

So I guess the dance wasn't so bad. It was interesting to see some of my students in a less-structured environment... the kids who, in class, were quiet or shy suddenly felt comfortable running around, dancing like mad, or twirling in circles. Is that how I was when I was 17? I want to say "no", but deep down, the answer is probably "yes".

As a teacher, I do a lot of time reflecting on my own youth. This is actually new to me, when I was teaching overseas, I never compared myself to my students. I'm not sure why that is... people are people no matter where you go, right? But maybe it was the new surroundings, maybe it was that the environment differed so drastically from the one that I was brought up in, maybe it was that they were 5 and learning (and communicating functionally) in a new language, as opposed to when I was five, and playing in ponds.
Here, though, the things these kids do... some of them I relate to. Some of them I rail against. It's strange. I thought I could honestly say that I, in my own young semi-adulthood, was nothing like the students of today. But maybe that's because I was focusing on the wrong students. From the behavior I saw last night, which was hyper, ridiculously enthused, slightly attention-starved, awkward and then not awkward... well, some of it reminded me a lot of me. It's kind of a blow to my ego, and now I have to either be less secure in my own moral superiority at seventeen, or just get over it. Or just pretend like I never had these thoughts and remain secure in my standing that, at that age, I was a prodigy who always behaved with the proper decorum for each situation.

Anyway, I ran over a frog last night. 80% sure. It was hopping across the road, but I only saw it too late because a) it was a little old frog, and b) it was dark. I wanted to slam on the brakes to let it pass, but there was a car right behind me, and they would probably have crashed into me, and what was I going to tell them? Sorry about the car accident, but I had to stop on the road for a hopping frog? I feel a disporportionate sense of guilt over the whole matter. I mean, yeah, it was a frog, but then again, it was a happy little hopping frog and I killed it. Like a monster.

Blah blah blah coffee

I'm not actually sure how it happened, but I agreed to chaperone a school dance tonight. I'm not sure how I feel about this. I mean, on the one hand, it's good for me to show the school that I'm willing to help out, and I get appreciation points from the students who were having a hard time finding someone willing to chaperone... but on the other hand. It's a school dance. I have to watch it. I had originally planned on taking a book to read, but decided that that behavior would be terribly un-supervisory. But, it's three hours long. On a Saturday night. It's not like I was going to do anything tonight anyway, most likely, but still. Those are three hours in my weekend that I wouldn't have to be working.

Yeah I think I'm just whining for the sake of whining. And of killing time because I gotta leave in the next twenty minutes or so, and don't have much else to do. Maybe I'll go by the coffee shop.

Stuff my students say:

"So can we close our eyes and read this?"



The picture is unrelated. I took it when I was out exploring one of the local parks. It's adorable.

A toll's a toll.

So a few weeks ago, I took to the streets of Dallas in a fruitful search for kimchi. The overall trip went really well, except for the presence of some rather ubiquitous toll road signs the further in I got. Not actual toll booths, just signs. So, not really knowing what the heck was going on, and since there were no people there frantically waving their arms or otherwise trying to stop me, I just kept driving.

Visiting my parents this weekend allowed me to collect the mail still being sent to their address. One envelope was from the Dallas Tollway transit group, and held the bill for my use of those (now understandably) empty stretches of highway. $5.64.

And okay, fine, I will pay my six dollars. I am probably even going to actually buy one of those scanner card thingies so that I don't receive pictures of my car license plate in the mail anymore. But it got me to thinking... who up and decided that I have to pay $6 for the ability to drive down the street? In the name of one of my least favorite presidents, no less? I mean, I wouldn't mind if it was the President Taft Tollway. Who wouldn't want to ride down the highway in the name of the guy who got stuck in the White House bathroom. Or if I knew that the payment of the toll was to purchase some rolls...



Well that would be another matter entirely.

Lost in the Trees

So I may or may not listen to NPR podcasts at work.

Well, actually, there is no "may not", I definitely listen to NPR podcasts at work, before class starts or during lunch. Lately I've been going through their tiny desk concert series, and really liked this band. Here they are for your listening enjoyment.

A ghost each place I hi-ide.

Well, I have survived my first six weeks. It really wasn't so bad. I think I've got a routine down. I haven't cried. Well, at least not since that one time. But that was a pretty legitimate cry, if you ask me.

I spent today searching for a Korean Market in Dallas to buy kimchi. And I was successful! I found Super H Mart, in Carrollton. It was amazing--the place was huge, clean, and seemed pretty modern. AND it had a Tous Les Jours inside.

After I got home, I decided it was finally time to put my platform bed together. Until a few weeks ago, I was sleeping on the floor on a blanket, and after then, I  was sleeping on the floor on a mattress, but now? Now, I am going to sleep on a mattress on a 90% constructed platform bed, and it will be awesome. The piece is only 90% done because it's apparently a 2-person assembling job... which I shrugged aside until it came to the part where you had to LIFT the bed up and TURN IT upside down and that thing is heavy! You have to do that so you can attach the final pieces of trim, and of course, I couldn't really manage to turn it over so I lifted it up and turned it on it's side and then it fell on me and then I decided that it was done enough and that no one is going to see it anyway.

Then I tried to put up a curtain rod and that was just a dismal failure so I decided to watch tv on the internet for awhile. And post in here. Which I am doing.

Hi.

What's so fine about art?

The pile of papers there for me to grade has been multiplying when I wasn't looking, I'm pretty sure. There's no other explanation as to how I can grade and grade and mark and mark and still have piles of papers that haven't seen the right side of a red pen at all. I even went to work early today! Earlier than I normally go, and I normally go pretty early! I need a paper-grading robot. Named Rhett. Miller.

Nevermore will trouble us.

And I'm resurfacing! In my new and improved(?) life as a school teacher, wherein I do RESPONSIBLE things, like grade papers and go to sleep at 7:30 pm like an old person. Though my birthday did pass recently, maybe now I really am an old person.

Scary.

In the meantime, I've read plenty of books. Or, re-read, I should say, since this place doesn't have a bookstore and I'm too broke to go and buy new books anyway.

I've been listening to the Decemberists tons lately, as I am in dire need of new music. Plus, I  love the Decemberists. This is one of my favorite songs right now.






I've watched 파스타, also known as Pasta, the Korean drama that aired at the beginning of this year. Ah, it makes me so nostalgic. I need to get over it. I mean, Texas has it's good points.

Texas' Good Points
 1. I have a job and an apartment and a car here. Which is better than having none of the above. I don't have a crazy neighbor that sings opera and plays loud gambling games at all times of the night. No one yells at me for walking up the stairs instead of taking the elevator.  Of course, I live on the first floor, so it's kind of a moot point.

2. People speak English here. Pretty well, most of the time!

3. I have a microwave and an oven, and there are majillions of foods that I can make with the microwave or oven within a short time and with a minimal amount of effort. They even sell these veggies in plastic bags that steam themselves if you put them in the microwave for 5 minutes and 30 seconds. PLUS, since they emit all this steam, after cooking them, it's very easy to clean inside the microwave. It's kind of like multitasking. Or saving effort. Or something.

4. If I had a TV and cable, I could watch hours on hours of Spongebob Squarepants. Since I don't, I can console myself that Nickelodeon or one of it's affiliates is playing hours and hours of Spongebob Squarepants even as we speak.

5. I'm learning a lot about being a teacher, so it's challenging. Teaching phonics wasn't quite the same... Though I still feel sometimes that I want to kick something violently after I get out of work... well, I think that's pretty normal.

For me.

6. I get paid soon, and I'm going to celebrate! Responsibly! Probably by watching another drama or something.

7. I think, overall, I feel like I'm making progress again. I think what I miss about being overseas is how secure I felt. I always had enough money for needs AND wants, I always had something to do, but I wasn't really doing anything. If that makes sense. Now I know that I'm going to be a little better off next year than I was last year, or even now... which is somewhat reassuring.

Unless, of course, there's like... a zombie apocalypse, in which case I'm way better off now, I guess.

Home decorating

So I have found an apartment and am moving in two days. What a way to start a blog entry, eh? I'll try to  make it more exciting from here. Probably through the copious use of exclamation marks.

I am trying to figure out how to decorate a new apartment! With extremely limited funds. Extremely limited. So limited that I won't actually be purchasing anything in the new few MONTHS, so I guess how to decorate my new place isn't a very pressing concern.

But it's fun, dangit.

Here is what I know will go into my new apartment.

1. A table.
2. A laptop.
3. Clothes and other personal items.
4. A sofa or futon.

Well that's about it so far. There are multiple reasons for my lack of prospective furnishings. One is that everything I had owned has been procured by other people in my family due to my absence overseas. I'm a little bitter. Two is that  I only have a little car, and lots of stuff won't fit into it. So I'll have to bring things or buy them later. Three is that I have only a bit of expendable income, and that will go towards purchasing an itty bitty futon or sofa and that is what I will sleep on until I can buy a bed because... I won't have a bed.

But I will have some curtains! I should add that to my list.

5. Curtains.

Boracay Island, August 2009

Well, tomorrow I'm off to sign my contract for employment, and find myself a place to live. This is a daunting task, as I've already called several places and most told me that they wouldn't have any spots available, or some were simply too big for me, and too expensive. But I have a feeling that I may have to settle for too big, since that's preferable to no place to live at all. Or living in a car. Or a tent. Or a house made of sticks, because I hear those aren't very good at keeping predators out. Here's hoping for good luck.

I'm pretty sure I'll have to decorate a classroom? Not sure how that's going to work out. Am I going to have to go buy some motivational posters of kittens hanging off a tree? In Korea, we'd print off pictures of different rooms in a house and laminate them with big labels to identify them. I think that might be a little simplistic. I'll have to gain some ideas from my coworkers, I guess.

At this time last year, I was coming back from a trip to the Philippines. I am hoping at this time next year to be coming back from a visit to somewhere. Korea maybe, but... it could be anywhere.

In the meantime, I will reminisce over that past summer vacation.

This is the hostel we stayed at, the Boracay Butterfly Gardens. We didn't see any butterflies. The hostel itself was very nice, and it was right on the beach. This wasn't the main beach on Boracay, White Beach, but Bulabog beach, which was quieter, and filled with boats. Fortunately, White Beach was only about a 10-15 minute walk away.

Here is a view of some of the boats at the beach. We went on one of these later , and went island hopping and snorkeling. And for the record, I get seasick like whoa. Knowing that previously would have basically killed my desire to go island hopping or snorkeling or to even set foot on the boat. Unfortunately, I only figured it out once we were out at sea and entering the choppy waves. That part was not so pleasant. Also, please note the cloudy skies. Apparently, if you go to the Philippines in August, it's rainy season. Fortunately, while it does rain every day, it's usually brief and warm, and we still went swimming during the showers.

Here we have a small bit of sun off of White beach. And a sailboat. There were also lots of kiteboarders, which I had never seen before. It was really amazing, until one of my coworkers got hit by one. Which was still pretty amazing.
White Beach was beautiful but windy. During the rainy season they have to set up windbreaks to keep the sand from blowing in off the beach and smacking you in the face. Which, while I'm sure is nice and exfoliating, isn't so pleasant when you're scratching sand out of your eyes. And your nose. And your teeth.
The main stretch of beach has tons of shops, restaurants, and little bars. I stopped for a henna tattoo, and we all got mango shakes and wow. Mango shakes are awesome. I also bought tons of dried mangoes to take back to Seoul for my coworkers... but I ended up keeping most of it for myself. Let them get their own dried mangoes, those were mine!

He sells fresh coconuts to the tourists out snorkeling.

During that ill-fated island hopping expedition.

 

 

 

At least I didn't get hit by a kiteboarder.

It's been a while!

But I'm not going to apologize. I'm not even sorry. It's not like anyone's reading this anyway.

I got my exam results....

....and.....

I passed! But it's kind of bittersweet. Like I've mentioned before, I have been getting a little nostalgic for my former foreign residency, so much so that... I'll admit it, I started looking at the job ads. I debated ordering the transcripts and going to get fingerprinted, but I didn't.
And I'm mostly glad for that. Though I still do have to get my fingerprints taken, now they'll be taken for the State Board of Educators, and not for some little academy in Seoul.

So now there are things to do! Contracts to sign, housing to seek, cars to purchase (rather, CAR to purchase), lesson planning, classrooms to look over, oh wow I'm actually going to be a teacher. It's great, really, it's exactly what I set out to do once I decided to leave Korea. And there's no student teaching, so I'll actually get paid, and get at least a year of valuable experience... experience that will be useful if I do end up going overseas again, as I'll be able to teach in an international school, and they usually want at least two years experience. While I'm sure my academy experience is worth something there, real-life classroom experience will be infinitely more so.

When I first decided to return to Texas, my plan was to start the life that my peers had already started--you know, the actual career, the house, all of that. But now that I'm back, I'm not exactly sure if that's the life to suit me. So I'm going to do my best to not make any plans that extend past a year--there will be no 10 year goals here, other than the vague one of making myself happy with my life. What that entails, who knows? Maybe I'll start a commune in India and meditate every day and live off of bananas. I like bananas. It's a viable option.

Reflecting

And not the mirror kind of reflecting.

Today, I helped my mom clean out some old papers that had accumulated around the house. In the process, I found a lot of my old things that I'd never thrown out, either due to laziness, a lack of opportunity, or a misplaced sense of sentimentality. Boy, did those things get tossed today.

I did manage to save a few items, though. Pictures, letters from my grandmother, and a diary I had written all the way back in 1995... you know, when people still hand-wrote their diaries.*
Then I made the mistake of reading part of the journal. And every.single.page, I kid you not, talked about boys. How this one was cute, or this one was not, how this one had blonde hair or blue eyes or a red t-shirt. Every. Single. Page.  I did talk about some other things in there, it wasn't like a giant ode to boys or anything, but they always got at least a cursory mention.

Now, I can chalk this up to a lot of things. I mean, it's pretty standard for most 13 year olds to be pretty darn boy-crazy. Plus, I was frequently reminded that I wasn't allowed to date until I graduated from high school. And I didn't. In retrospect, this was probably a good thing, considering just how boy crazy I was, I would have probably ended up with about 18 kids by now.** However, at the time, the only thing I wanted more than a copy of Final Fantasy VI*** and smaller glasses was a boyfriend.

Boy has that changed! I mean, don't get me wrong, I still like boys. They're very nice to look at (sometimes... some of them), they're occasionally fun to talk to****, and they can be good at picking up heavy objects. Some of them sing very nicely, and others dance well and a few of them can even cook. That doesn't mean they take up my every waking thought... and some of the non-waking ones. I guess this is an example of growing up? At least it makes for much less embarrassing diary entries.

Er, excuse me, journal entries.





*I have a diary that I still hand-write. Though now I'm all mature and stuff, so I call it a journal.

**Don't ask me how that's biologically possible. I just know that it is. I saw that show on TLC about the family with the bajillion kids, it can happen.

***Why yes, I was a dork, back before dorks became cool. I consider this an example of being a trendsetter.


****Haven't actually talked to him, just making an assumption.

Focus

I think I'm losing sight of what's brought me back to the States in the first place. It's so easy to do, though. Watch as I again complain of boredom. But it's not really boredom, as much as a feeling of being on pause. I'm making a few motions towards setting up a life in my new town, where I got my job acceptance, but I'm still waiting for my exam results to come in before I really start to do anything.

And I think I'm a little overwhelmed by all there is to do. I'm basically starting from scratch at this point. I had edited so many things out of my life when I first went overseas, and again when I came back. Three years ago, my life fit into two suitcases. Three months ago, it fit into two suitcases... and approximately 6 boxes that I sent through the mail.

On the bright side, I've grown to enjoy having less clutter in my life. Not to say that there's no clutter at all, but there's definitely less than more people. But then again, I don't have the things most people my age do, like a car, or a tv, or a bed. Yeah, I don't have a bed. I'll be sleeping on an air mattress when I first move to my new place.... and I don't have an air mattress either. I'll be buying it once my test results come in. See the way that moved full circle there?

Though I did manage to acquire a cat. I guess that's some progress on the road of life.

Life.

So I think I can divide my life into segments based on where I lived at a given time. I guess most people can do this actually, except for people who lived for an entire lifetime in one place, or for people who had really really exciting things happen to them. I am not one of those people.
This is not divided very evenly... but here goes.


The Farm Age, 0-5.5:
I lived on a farm (duh). As is naturally the case in such tender, formative years, I don't remember much. Well, that's not precisely true. I remember a great deal, but all the events that I remember seem to have to do with me hurting or embarrassing myself. Like how I chopped my toe with a hatchet when I was trying to chop down a weed. Or when I ran away from home and set up camp in the cattle pen about 500 feet from the house. Or when I fell through the ice in the pond (in Texas, we call 'em 'tanks') like Amy in Little Women, except for the lack of ice skating, and Laurie rescuing me, and the fact that I was in a shallow part, so I only got wet to my knees. But I had to walk back home! In the snow! And it was cold!

The School Age, 5.5-18:
We moved to town when I started kindergarten. (I mostly remember only embarrassing things from then, too, it's like a disease, man.) My life was not exciting. I had a variety of "best friends", was in Girl Scouts (troop 256!) for a few years, went to middle school, went to high school. I was a definite academic type with unacademic leanings. It's hard, when you go to such a small school, to stay in only one niche, unless you really force yourself to it. So I kind of did a little bit of everything.... High school was definitely the high point during this period, because I actually remember good things happening! Along with bad things. But we won't get into them.

The Lubbock Years, 18-24:
I moved to Lubbock to go to University. My requirements in the University that I chose weren't too stringent. In fact, they mostly depended on which school would give me the best scholarship, and since all the ones I applied to offered pretty good ones... it came down to which school I knew how to get to. Lubbock it was! All told, it wasn't such a bad decision, but in my next life, I'll probably be a little more exacting in my standards. College was all right. I was terrible at going to class and awesome at picking bad boyfriends. Once I graduated, I stayed around and worked for awhile, but it was more stressful than anything. I didn't know what to do with my degree, I didn't want to go to grad school then, and I didn't know how to make any plans for the future. So that leads to...

Korea Time, 24-27:
 Moving to Seoul was probably one of the best decisions of my life. I got to experience life as I'd never known it. Museums, theatres, ballets, nightclubs, street food vendors, mountains, rivers, beaches, coffee shops, aquariums, parks, restaurants, soju and samgyupsal, oh I get nostalgic just thinking of it. Even now, it's hard to not just pick up and go back. Not to say that my life there was perfect... there were definite rough spots, but there was so much to look forward to each week. I guess I miss that lifestyle even more, because my current era is...

The Unknown, 27-?:
This point in my life seems mostly to revolve around watching TV, washing dishes and reading books. I may be moving in the next two weeks or maybe not. I may be buying a car, renting a house, getting furniture, cooking my own meals, grocery shopping for just myself.... or maybe not. It all depends on the results of the exam I took three weeks ago, which I will receive in one more week. One more week! And if I don't pass the exam... maybe I'll return to the previous era. Or maybe not.

I suck at blogging.

But it's okay! Because I accept it. Besides, as I so eloquently explained it to my old boss, the highlight of my day now is when I get to make a trip to Wal-Mart. I have to drive 40 minutes to get a latte. I like lattes, but that sure is a long time to get one, so I rarely get to have them.

I had one today, though. It was pretty epic. Iced hazelnut lattes are what will get me through this summer. Even if they come around about once a week.

It had been raining off an on for almost the past two weeks. It kind of felt like monsoon season for awhile. I really like the rain, but there's a bad (or good, depending on how you view it) affect. It makes the grass grow. To ridiculously great heights. Yesterday, it FINALLY stopped raining, and then all I head up and down the block were lawnmowers. Loud, accusatory lawnmowers. Lawnmowers raging at me, for allowing such tall plant-life to grow in my own yard. Well, not my own yard, technically my parent's yard, but I guess lawnmowers don't differentiate when it comes to the jungle growing in front of the house.

So I mowed the yard.

I'm telling you this for three reasons.

1. I have lived exclusively in apartments for the past 9 years. That means... I haven't had to do any yard work in 9 years. I haven't mowed a yard in 9 years.... so boy, did my hands chafe. I couldn't feel my index fingers for the entire night.

2. I stepped in 3 beds of ants. Count them. 1.2.3. BEDS OF ANTS. Of course, I stepped in them after I ran the lawnmower over them, so they weren't too happy. And they showed that by swarming over my ankles and biting me. On three separate occasions. You would think I'd learn to watch where I'm stepping. Apparently not. Did any of you ever see the episode of Dirty Jobs where Mike's alligator hunting and gets bitten by ants?

Wait, I will show you.



Yeah, it's basically like that.

3. My next door neighbor is in her 80's, and she's a scrappy little thing. She mows her yard every day, uses the weedeater, sweeps the sidewalks.. we've even seen her going over her lawn with scissors. So when she saw me mowing the gigantic forest that had sprouted on the other side of the street.... well, to say that she approved would be an understatement. She came by to talk to me 3 different times during the course of my physical labor... the first time to verify that I was actually going to mow the yard... the second time to bring me a soda and a cup of ice... and the last time to press some Hershey's kisses into my hand. "These'll give you energy," she said.

And she was right. They did.

Too bad they couldn't ward off ant attacks.

Boundaries.

I'm struggling with the idea of transparency, here. I mean, how much am I supposed to share on the great big old internet? Or how much is too much? I can tell you my height (5'7) or my favorite color (it's gray) (yes, really) but I just can't seem to feel okay about revealing too much in regards to my real life, or how I'm feeling....deep down.... or things like that. I realize it's better if I can share more, because then it's more interesting for anyone who happens to read this (if anyone happens to read this) and it also is a good way for me to remember what's happened at this point in my life.

I've kept "blogs" before, and I've kept written journals, and in both formats I struggle with this. I think this conflict stems from how little I edited from my journals when I was younger, and how mortified I was about what I had written down. Now, remembering them, they're not so bad. Mostly diatribes about how much I loathed whichever sibling I was fighting with at the time, or gushing praise about whichever boy I liked at the time. But reading what my 12 year old self had written when I was 18 was a bit of an eye-opener. And I guess it was then that I decided that 'twas better to be vague and confused than to talk too much about how cute Devon Sawa was. Do you remember Devon Sawa? I do. I had about 12 of his posters tacked up on the wall right next to my bed and I would look at him before I went to sleep each night and...

Oh. Right. Transparency.

I'm making an effort here. Or, at least, I'll try to make an effort here. I can't guarantee that I'll always be very forthright about what's happening in my life because... well... I just can't. There are some things a girl can't talk about. Like how many Diet Dr. Peppers they drink in a day.

You have to draw the line somewhere.

Mogi the Biter

I have a fierce attack cat.

Dilemnas

I've spent a great deal of my current underemployedness not doing much of anything. I cleaned my parent's house. I walk the dog. I play an unholy amount of computer games. I run errands, and pick up heavy things, and it's all very relaxing. Except for the court TV.

My father is old. I mentioned that, right? And he will only watch three things on television: war movies, NCIS and court TV. And luckily for him, they show different court shows from 10 am to 2 pm on the same channel. He doesn't even have to flip channels.

Now, all of this wouldn't be a big deal if not for the fact that I don't like being cooped up in my current room. It's small, the only thing I can sit on is the bed, and it doesn't have air conditioning. No air conditioning in Texas is like no roller coasters at the amusement park. It's just not fun. So I get to sit out in the living room, with the air conditioning, and listen to court TV.

Right now, it's Judge Jeannine Pirro. Before her, it was Judge Mathis. Before HIM, it was Divorce Court, and before that, it was People's Court. Arrrrgh, I have it all memorized.

Anyway, there's one thing I've learned from watching/listening to all of these televised judiciary proceedings. And that is: PEOPLE SUCK.

I know that there are recruiters for this show, who go around and scour legal claims until they find the most interesting cases, or the most ridiculous people, and then offer them an appearance on this show. I know that some of these claims are probably set-ups, because the people get paid for appearing on the show. But, geez, all they involve are people jacking money from other people, or parents feuding over their children, or boyfriends or girlfriends trying to avoid paying child support, or trying to get their child support.
This is not fun.

Then, to top that off, today I've been reading this site, and it's basically encouraged me to never think about dating again. Which isn't such a bad idea. If I don't date, I'll never be tempted to sue my deadbeat-abusive-lazy boyfriend for the cost of the china that he broke whilst we were in the midst of one of our knock-down-drag-outs, while my terrorized children from 3 different fathers look on.

But then again, I wouldn't get to meet Judge Judy. She's a feisty one.

Introductions

Well, I'm a-blogging.

This isn't exactly new to me.  I've blogged before. Though I've always refrained from calling it "blogging". I kind of drifted away from it in the past few months (or...year) but I'm back! I think! It's not like I have a lot of options right now.

Let me 'splain.

No, there is too much. Let me sum up. I was born, I went to school, graduated from college, moved to South Korea, moved BACK from South Korea, and now I'm living in Dinkyville*, TX, waiting for the next part of my life to begin.

What that next part is, I'm not sure exactly. I'll find out in approximately 4 weeks, when my test scores get in.

Until then, I'm back at my parent's house. I admit it! I live with my parents, their elderly dog and my newly-acquired kitten.

My mom is:
Korean
Conservative
Bilingual
Super Religious

My dad is:
Old enough to be my grandfather
Cantankerous
Elderly
Ridiculously conservative
OLD


The kitten is:
A biter
Adorable
Fluffy
As yet unnamed

The dog is:
A dog

I am:
Liberal
Outspoken
Not used to living with my family


To say that we don't always get along would be an understatement.

So, like I said, I'm waiting. I'm enrolled back in school to get my teacher's license. I can get either by completing a year's internship at a school or by doing a semester of student teaching. I am hoping for the former, so that I can actually get paid to do this. But the internship is contingent upon me passing a teaching exam, which I took last week. I have to wait til the end of July to find out the results. If I pass, I move away from home and begin an entirely new life. If I don't pass, I have no idea what happens.

I'm hoping that I pass.

Until then, I have big plans. Alphabetizing my book collection, walking the dog, going to Wal-Mart. This is small-town living at it's finest!


*For the record, Dinkyville is not a real place. That I know of. It might be. Let me look. 


Nope, it appears that it is not a real place. In Texas, at least.